Come, It's Pleased So Far
by purrfectj
Summary: Anders and Delia Hawke of the fabulous legs and smart mouth have been dancing around each other for years. They've given in but is that wise?


"Anders. Anders, fuck, oh Maker, now, now, it has be...ANDERS!"

"Yes, there you go," he crooned, low and darkly amused, and somewhere in the back of her mind Delia realized she'd never had a lover who tore such desperate sounds from her throat, who had her ass rising in demand from the bed, her fingers curled into fists where they were bound together above her head. His tongue, his talented, clever, _wicked_ tongue swirled around her clit again just as the two long, slender, elegant fingers he had pressing in and out of her hot, wet heat curled forward toward her belly, gently nudging. Delia came apart in his hands, the orgasm ripping through her like a blade to the gut, her body a long arch of delicious pleasure, babbling nonsense, prayers and blasphemes in equal measure.

She was the most wondrous thing he had ever seen, Anders thought, and heard the disgusted echo of Justice only vaguely. Delia Hawke was all rose gold and pinks under her armor, her red blonde, curly hair in disarray around her astonishingly beautiful face, her perfect rosebud mouth still parted as she attempted to catch her breath. She was built like the warrior she was, long muscled legs, strong thighs, the most incredible breasts that more than filled his hands, and an ass that belonged in a painting. And he had her writhing on her bed in her fancy Hightown mansion while he licked her pretty cunt until she was begging him to let her come. Keeping his fingers buried in her still spasming sex, he leaned back slightly to watch her storm grey eyes flutter open.

"Damn you, Anders," she muttered weakly and he laughed, scissoring his fingers as his thumb brushed her swollen clit. She hissed and jerked and cursed him again.

"Want me to stop?" And he did, pulling his fingers out of her and bringing them to his lips, slowly and thoroughly licking them clean while she made the most deliciously frantic sound and bucked her hips. "Aww, poor Hawke. Need something?"

"Fuck you."

"Ah, ah, such _language_. And you're in no position to fuck me. Even if I probably would enjoy it." So saying and with a smirk, he slid from the bed.

She watched him walk away with appreciation, the back view of his long, slender, naked body and incredible ass almost as intriguing as when he turned back to the bed and gave her the full frontal impact of his long, slender, pretty cock. It curved up toward his belly from a nest of dark blonde curls, the head purple and distended, and when he saw where she was looking, his smirk grew wider. After drawing the flat of his tongue over his hand, he then proceeded to wrap it around his length. Delia had to bite her lip to keep from moaning as he pumped his cock, long, steady strokes. "Fuck me," she muttered when he threw his head back and let out a throaty sound that had her cunt pulsing.

"That sounds like a more agreeable plan," he said cheerfully, releasing his hold on himself as he moved back to the bed. She felt him set something next to her hip but couldn't turn at the proper angle with her hands bound to see what it was. "Now, I bet your arms are starting to ache a bit, hmm? Let's change positions." When she said nothing, he unhooked the leather strap from the headboard, leaving her hands still bound together. She winced as her shoulders protested. Ever solicitous, Anders helped her sit up, firmly massaging out the soreness. "Wrists still okay?" At her nod of assent, he picked up what he'd brought from the other side of the room and showed it to her: it was a leather dildo, slightly wider but shorter than his cock.

"What, can't use your pretty prick on me, gotta have a toy?" She tried to sound contemptuous but realized she only managed petulant when he chuckled and kissed her cheek.

"I'm glad you think my cock is so pretty. And while I will, eventually, fuck that tight little cunt of yours with my pretty prick, right now you're going to fuck yourself with _this_ cock while your dirty mouth makes me come." He nearly laughed again when his steadfast, unwavering, angry warrior actually whined. He tapped his finger on her nose. "Don't fret. Grey Warden stamina exists. Also, healing mage. I can go four or five times a night." When her eyes narrowed in suspicion and avarice, Anders couldn't resist kissing her, licking and biting at her mouth. They were both panting when he pulled away.

"You must be a popular guy," she muttered, half-jealous at the thought. His eyebrows winged up. His delicious Delia who'd just screamed for him and she was worried about half-forgotten lovers?

"Hawke, all I see in this bed is you and me." He slipped the leather toy into her fingers, letting her get a good grasp of it, and then lightly smacked her hip. "Now, be a good girl and stand up for me. This will work better if you're on the floor on your knees." He had to help her but soon she was where he wanted her, kneeling on the floor, thighs spread, her bound hands holding the toy just at her sex. "Perfect. Let's see you fuck yourself. Slowly, now, you won't be coming again for a while yet."

They both moaned as she angled the fake cock and then sank down onto it, hilting it into her cunt in one long, smooth stroke. When she glanced up at him to make sure he was pleased, it was to find him looking at something over her shoulder, his lips slightly parted. "What in the Maker's name is so...oh!"

The tall, ornate mirror she used for dressing, the one her mother had insisted upon when they'd moved into the mansion and which had been special ordered from Orlais at exorbitant expense, gave Anders a perfect view of her heart-shaped ass and the wet curls at the juncture of her thighs and the thick dildo splitting her open. She looked wicked. And beautiful. And his eyes were all for her, only on her, brown and drowning deep. Full of secrets and promises, those eyes.

Delia teetered on a precipice, more than just lust tightening the skin of her belly.

In the mirror, Anders flashed another grin at her as he moved to sit in front of her on the bed.

"I'm clever, I know," he said with false modesty. When she continued to watch him and herself in the mirror with wide eyes, he reached down and pinched one of her nipples, hard. "Stop looking at your own ass, Delia, and suck my cock."

He half expected a growled refusal, a sharp retort, or some other bit of coquettishness. She was such a contrary girl, his Delia. Instead, she parted her beautiful pouting lips and swallowed him nearly whole in one quick twist of her shoulders and had him arching nearly completely from the bed, his hands fisting in the tumbled bedclothes. It was only through great fortitude and a little flicker of magic that Anders managed to keep his eyes open, managed to keep from spilling himself down her throat. The purr of pleasure she made as his cock wept onto her tongue was another trial to his control, as was watching as she used her strong hips and legs to ride the toy he'd commissioned especially for her.

They'd been dancing around each other now for nigh on five years. He'd been resistant to the idea of being more than her friend at first: she was brash and bold and reckless and violent, quick with a bawdy laugh and a smartass comment even while she bashed someone in the face with her shield. Isabela had even told him, bluntly, that Delia wasn't built for long-term, for the dreams the pirate saw swirling in his eyes and on his face when he looked at Hawke. He'd been hard-pressed to stutter out a reply, hard-pressed when the truth was Anders wasn't built for long-term, either, wasn't built for anything more than furtive gropes in darkened hallways, in quick, gasping relief from mouth or hands, in the darker, more sinister aspects of pleasure.

But Delia believed in revolution, believed in freedom and fighting and Maker did she believe in fucking, so when she goaded him into kissing her until she was naked on one of his exam tables and he was thrusting his cock into her, both of them moaning incoherently, well, what was a man to do but fall in love?

Watching her now as she swallowed him nearly to the root, her teeth gently scraping across the ridge of his dick, as she took the dildo as deep as it could go and swirled her hips, her cunt glistening and wet, well-aware that the sweet, soft, gentle sentiments of his heart were not welcome here, Anders flicked her nose with his fingertip and ordered, "Swallow it all, now, like a good girl."

If, while his eyes were closed, his head thrown back so the long, beautiful line of his neck was bare, his ash blonde hair spread across her pillows, did he miss the wistful, waiting, wondering look on Hawke's porcelain doll face, well, Anders' luck had always been rather dismal.


End file.
